


A Growing Reverence

by Notfunctioningshipper



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, LMAO, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, also wow I didn't know wine could be so expensive, it's like very subdued, me a non wine drinker googling wines older than the 90s, uhhhh so is this red or white wine, yes I love the plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 13:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19427392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notfunctioningshipper/pseuds/Notfunctioningshipper
Summary: In which Aziraphale first finds out about Crowley's plants and has a moment™.





	A Growing Reverence

He thinks it might’ve been the early 1990’s when he first visited Crowley’s apartment. Before that he’d always assumed the demon didn’t have his own home, spent most nights at people’s he tempted (he wasn’t particularly happy about the unwanted thoughts that came into his mind when he pondered too much about this topic).

So he still remembers the surprise he’d felt when he found out that his wily adversary seemed to have quite an open, luxurious space for himself, in a rather great difference to his own bookshop.

“It’s not much”, said adversary had shrugged and had he been he blushing? It couldn’t have been. Aziraphale had smiled politely and stepped in.

The only reason he’d come here in the first place was due to the fact that Crowley had an old Leroy Richebourg Grand Cru he was holding onto and after their lovely dinner, he’d thought it was time to open it.

Aziraphale considered himself lucky to be one of the only creatures on earth (and probably the entire universe) who had consumed gallons of expensive wines and had wholeheartedly appreciated the grand gesture of his hellish counterpart.

What he didn’t expect in Crowley’s apartment had been the plants.

He couldn’t still his curiousity and had gone exploring (snooping was such a dreadful term) while Crowley had been rummaging in his cabinets. Having observed the spare surroundings Aziraphale had briefly wondered what else he had hidden in those drawers for everything else seemed so empty.

He didn’t expect to find a room that resembled a distant memory he’d never quite forgotten. The angel felt he had stumbled into some fold of reality where the past and the present collided, a place where longing and hope met.

“It reminds me of the Garden”, a voice behind him had said carefully, and yet he’d jumped.

He had turned around to see Crowley, sunglasses low on his nose, his serpent eyes gleaming behind them. Something in his chest ached at the sight of him surrounded by the green leaves. He’d pushed the feeling away.

“Oh Crowley, dear… They’re lovely”, he’d spoken, unable to keep out the reverence in his voice. He’d touched the leaf of a large pothos plant and it seemed to grow even larger in his hand.

“Aren’t all of you just gorgeous!” he laughed as he went around complimenting each plant, and every one would seem more beautiful than the last.

“Stop, you’re spoiling them”, Crowley had mumbled and angrily glared at a poor echeveria. Aziraphale hadn’t noticed.

“You’re quite the skilled gardener”, he’d said after a while of basking in memories and had taken one last look at the beautiful room.

Ivy was growing along a wall and he wondered if it would grow up to the Heavens if you’d let it. Of course, physically that was impossible but something about the room made him feel a bit nostalgic, made him feel a certain giddiness mixed with naivety.

He still didn’t quite have a word for that emotion after all these years, but even now when thinking back he felt it. He hadn’t questioned why the Serpent of Eden had a replica of Her garden in his own four walls. Maybe he should have. Maybe it would’ve led to fewer misunderstandings on his part. But the time wouldn’t have been right either way (at least that had been his excuse the next day after Crowley had left the bookshop and had left him with a lot of confusion he couldn’t place at the time. He didn’t understand, then. He doesn’t know if he understands any better now. He likes to think he does).

He doesn’t remember Crowley’s reaction to the offhanded compliment because he’d been too enthralled about the wine the demon had held in his hand, but if he’d taken a closer look he could have seen a certain fondness in those golden eyes they’d only ever held for Aziraphale.

He would have also noticed the joy of the plants who didn’t know then, that their Master even had a different expression than pure unadulterated rage. Sadly, their hope for kinder words was crushed the very next day, because naturally, Crowley would make sure they wouldn’t turn soft and have a spot, how could they even have dared to let loose?

But Aziraphale didn’t know that.

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley keeps Aziraphale's letters in his drawers if anyone was wondering.
> 
> So this was a lovely prompt suggested by rainbowdolphinsattack on tumblr!  
> The prompt was: "Aziraphale finds out about Crowley's plants for the first time"  
> If you'd like to read more stuff like this I'm open to suggestions!  
> Shout at me:  
> on tumblr @notfunctioningshipper  
> on twitter @crazyindira


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